A Kaleidoscopic Fog
I walked through a kaleidoscopic fog early on a spring
morning in 1996. The sun was just rising. The fog had
set a stage and our star presented its golden light,
with its rays continually in motion in the midst of the fog.
I had seen a beautiful golden glow from my dining
room--window--which seemed to beckon me to the
show. I grasped at my chance, so fortunate was I in
the potential of fulfillment. I had a camera, and it had a film!
So quickly my feet had moved me, from the house onto
the grass that it seemed as though my feet had wings!
I clicked each picture into a memory.
Related quotes
The Morning is The Poetess
as you relax
this early morning
you meet it ... and
greet it,
saying hello to its
newly arrived light
from the window of your
soul
from the gates of your
temple
from the warm arms
of your room
you hug
a very intangible
lover .... this morning
this cool
beautiful morning
dressed in light
golden
you do not compose
a poem for it
it composes a poem
for you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Beautiful Morning
What a beautiful morning
The best in life is free
What a beautiful morning
Believe me
What a mystery
Though the world's on fire
Yesterday's hard words is still in my head
I feel no despair
No regrets or sorrows
Cause this new day
Makes me dance on air
What a golden day
What a beautiful morning in my life
The best in life is free
I give it all away
And I wonder what more is to come
And this beautiful morning changed my mind
Believe me when I say
The shadows fading out
As the day grows bright
We are turning pages
And we write new chapters of our life
Some are strong and long
Others weak with sorrows
Keep the focus on the rising sun
What a golden day
What a beautiful morning in my life
The best in life is free
I give it all away
And I wonder what more is to come
And this beautiful morning changed my mind
Believe me when I say
Shadows fading out
Believe me - crows will always fly
Believe me - they are only birds
You have to
You have to let go and you will see things in a different light
What a beautiful morning
What a beautiful morning
Believe me
What a beautiful
What a beautiful morning...
Believe me
song performed by by Ace Of Base from Da Capo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Greetings on this most exceedingly beautiful spring morning. A morning swollen with new life, a morning on which, if I had the voice, I would let loose with song. It's hard to believe just a few short weeks ago we were eating our cornflakes in the wintery dark. Now, well it's still kind of dim out there, but I can see the golden glow of Apollo's chariot waiting in the wings, about to make its entrance. Winter's on the lam, no doubt.
quote by Andrew Schneider
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forgotten house
This great house was abandoned to decay
Forgotten unloved but here it does stay
Sun bleached wood cracking in the heat of the day
Paint simply peeled completely away
This great house a shadow of it former self
Golden stonework hint at its previous wealth
Ivy growing and spreading over the surface with stealth
Stone flaking blackened show its bad health
This house has great dark blackened windows
No inner light to give its previous known golden glow
No movement for here ice has fallen its soul has froze
In this house forgotten once golden now noone knows
Unearth Rough Diamond
Sight rough diamond
still dirt embedded
in clinging dust debris
of parent prison earth.
Chance salient rays
of probe light shining
show carrot promise
lying locked therein.
When prominent washed
diamond is grasped held
in affirmed gem revealing
white introspective light.
But rough diamond
while fate unearthed
was never cut hidden
missing morning light.
Predetermined
a jeweled
alluring
counterpoise.
Set off twist filigree golden
as amulet eye orb disc light
commanding introspection
a sphere of enlightenment.
Diamond in the rough
awaits future incarnations.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Writing on wall
It was just plane writing on wall
I must have taken it a serious call
She was on and off repeating same thing
There was hidden message through something
There may be long wait
All dependants on fate
How can one think and rate?
It is difficult to state
New car can have speed trial
It ahs to pass test on arrival
How does it apply when one is eternal?
And another is a physical and external
One can dream of golden goose
At the end beautiful race to loose
Yet many things remain to choose
Beautiful memory and enough of woes
Hope only may endure and last
The meaning of love is not limited but vast
One looses the race but gains confidence
Only one and only one beautiful incidence
Who follows whom in this worldly stage?
Who acts better and performs with age?
Who sets in the beautiful and golden cage?
Only smiles and admiration without scope for rage
What have I to with rising of sun beam?
When they have ganged against me as team?
Why is that concerning for rising of moon?
When I have to see the stars in the noon?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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I've Got a Golden Ticket
I never thought my life could be
Anything but catastrophe
But suddenly I begin to see
A bit of good luck for me
'Cause I've got a golden ticket
I've got a golden twinkle in my eye
I never had a chance to shine
Never a happy song to sing
But suddenly half the world is mine
What an amazing thing
'Cause I've got a golden ticket
It's ours, Charlie
I've got a golden sun up in the sky
I never thought I'd see the day
When I would face the world and say
Good morning, look at the sun
I never thought that I would be
Slap in the lap of luxury'
Cause I'd have said it couldn't be done
But it can be done
I never dreamed that I would climb
Over the moon in ecstasy
But nevertheless, it's there that I'm
Shortly about to be
'Cause I've got a golden ticket
I've got a golden chance to make my way
And with a golden ticket, it's a golden day
Good morning, look at the sun'
Cause I'd have said it couldn't be done
But it can be done
I never dreamed that I would climb
Over the moon in ecstasy
But nevertheless, it's there that I'm
Shortly about to be
'Cause I've got a golden ticket'
Cause I've got a golden ticket
I've got a golden chance to make my way
And with a golden ticket, it's a golden day
poem by Roald Dahl
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Dropping By Your House This Morning
i dropped by your house this very early morning
the windows are closed
but the door is half-open
and i could have given in to this little curiosity
that cats keep on their paws
and soft feet
or hands if you may
but i didn't. there is something in the houe
that says
you had a bad day and that night you did not have
a sound sleep
the roses are wilting and a flower pot falls on the ground
broken
the soil splashed like spilled water on the grass
there is no sound of the wind
from the storm last night
i just dropped by. I respect you. The door of the house
finally closed
i did not see the hands that closed it.
it maybe yours
or someone else's
the rug has spoken. You want to be alone.
to keep the faint light left
in that little room. the curtains fall. the lights
went off on that very early morning.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Wings for sale
I walk in the aisle of the corridor and gaze at the seashore,
where I used to stay in the early morning of my house, the
night comes dazzling with the sun, as the clouds rushing
molding with the early bird flapping there wings in the sunny
mode of the dawning light mingling of the cooled breeze of
the monsoon wind
the hushing blow of wave, sprouted like a rainbow in the
showering sky, so deeply in touch of the sands in the naked
stones beneath the sloping cliff in the high dunes of sand, a
distance view in my beautiful nipa hut near the pavement
slope in the golden glow of light of the morning sun
as the moving water gallop the ocean current, the ocean floor
with its strength mumble in the rushing stones, forcing to
clap the water blown in the sand as its stand, sunk as it sang
the beautiful tunes as it sprang and the water bubble like a fish
slowly moving to reach the sudden rod of the fisherman hands
like wind that passes, swiftly in our faces, like sunlight touches
our braces, our dreams closes our passage to live what we
believe, always stop when we are there, all the way it
embraces of what it should be, for everything is not yet the
final day
sale and sail always your way for in every corner the angels
stay with thee, don't stop until you find the right way for in the
end you can buy a wings like angel who always see the
beautiful day, and your heart will always stay the precious
wings of angel that fly with thee
poem by Antonio Liao
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A morning poem for the muse
A morning poem for the muse
~
Every morning I wake
I picture you beautiful
Like the rising sun
You bring light to my life
A new beginning to my soul
If I forget to say it
Always let it be known
You are beautiful
Kind of heart and nature
A loving friend
A soul companion
What more could I ask
Than all that you are
I picture you each morning
To see you beautiful
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Early Morning [2]
In the early morning
dew covers every piece of grass and flower
and I see green sprouts in the soft ground
that appears after the first rain,
some grow luxuriant and others are slender and fine.
Some dew covers every piece of grass and flower,
and new buds appear
on long green stems,
some grow luxuriant and others are slender and fine.
in an aromatic existence.
At dark red roses and pink hollyhocks
on long green stems,
butterflies appear new from there metamorphoses
while the sun spreads its yellow-golden rays,
at dark red roses and pink hollyhocks
bees and butterflies fly to and thro
in the early morning
while the sun spreads its yellow-golden rays
and I see green sprouts in the soft ground.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Several weathers in spring
Several weathers in spring
~
a spring morning began
clouds broke for the sun
and returned to claim the sky
rain fell into a shower of hail
and the wind blew it all dry
the sun returned for a spell
and quickly went away
people spoke of sleet and snow
where it fell elsewhere
I had heard or was told
in the room, behind the window
nothing seemed to change
the temperature was modest
and the air still and dry
it was only the picture changing
dependent on the weather
before the light slowly left
and we returned to the night
poem by Matthew Holloway
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A Sketch Of What Familiarity And Routine Is All About
when she arrives in my house
that early morning
she was more silent than
the grass that is still jeweled
with dew
there is still that sense of
strangeness
like a bird from the forest
that is still feeling its new cage
she had three to five days
her feet studying the floors and stairs
her hands groping the blankets
and pillows in the bed and
room
the books in the library included
there are conversations going on
to the different parts of the house and garden
until she has become a part to all of them
and then
she sits on the grass and
lays her body in bed
ofter spending more time reading
the titles of the books
she has the best time dining
until she holds control
and laughs the hardest
disturbing the peace of the neighbors
it is the familiarity
and perhaps too much of it like an alcoholic drink
that makes her lose
what is important
she gets drunk and
unmanageable
on the fifth day and it was a Sunday
she left us without a word at around 3 a.m.
when all the members of the house were all tired and asleep
she left a note: she does not deserve to stay
in this ordered universe
she is a random incident of a dice,
she is a woman unnumbered
a bird not fit for a cage
a dog without a leash
a speck of dust owned by no wind
we do not mention her name during that lonely breakfast
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When dusk creeps through the windows
When dusk creeps through the windows
with the big old oak tree etched against the sky,
the eastern horizon gleams outside,
the morning star hangs is a beacon that bridges the night,
while the golden moon fades away
with the big old oak tree etched against the sky
the night is driven away, chased
by the sun rising burning
while the golden moon fades away,
the morning is fresh like an unfolding flower
while the birds, the insects, the animals are woken
by the sun rising burning
with blinding white light, stretching out its rays
and I am getting awake
while the birds, the insects, the animals are woken
and the day has already belted its gleaming chord.
When dusk creeps through the windows
and I am getting awake
the eastern horizon gleams outside.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Golden Age
I heard a rumour of a golden age
And the stage is gettin set
I heard a rumour of a golden age
The stage is gettin set
I heard a rumour of a golden age
In the song, on a screen and printed page
And all the world will be a stage
And the stage is gettin set
Ive seen the glow of a golden dawn
And the dawn is comin through
Ive seen the glow of a golden dawn
And the dawn is comin through
Ive seen the glow of a golden dawn
And all will wait to gaze upon
And though the hour is hard and long
The dawn is coming through
I felt the wind behind my heels
And it feels good to me
I felt the wind behind my heels
And it feels good to me
I felt the wind behind my heels
My soul fired up like catherine wheels
And Im never gonna forget how it feels
And it feels good to me
I stood on the side of a shimmering sea
I saw a ship come sailing in
I stood on the side of a shimmering sea
I saw a ship come sailing in
I stood on the side of a shimmering sea
Said lord, I surrender and fell on my knees
And loving rose in the heart of me
And the ship came sailing in
I heard a rumour of a golden age
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0030 Motion Picture Features Central Park
The other day in Central Park
a park-keeper said, that urban parks
were motion pictures, before
motion pictures … except that,
they were the picture; you
did the motion…and
I savoured that remark which seemed
to hover on the edge
of poetic profundity and revelation
and, inconsequentially, threw up a vision
of Garbo, Swanson, Crawford, Davis,
taking a quiet winter morning’s walk
behind large dark glasses and an upturned collar;
and my mind, taking too its mental morning stroll
in Central Park, walked with a
new light-hearted springy step, a sparkling eye,
breathing clean fresh cold green air,
the sun catching frost on leaf and
the slow surface of cold lake water,
winter sunshine lighting expertly
the long shot, the camera’s focus,
the dissolve, the swelling music
as the credits gently roll out
their farewell to a dream;
the motion picture of the mind.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Virgo Clowns
Let us free you from the pain
Let us see you smile again
Let us unlock all the chains
Youre broken-hearted
Let us help you to forget
Let us help you unlock it
Its not nearly time to quit
Youve only started
You gotta
Sit down funny face
Let your laughter fill the room
Light up your golden smile
Take away all your misery and gloom
Let your laughter fill the room
Let your laughter fill the room
Let us shake you by the hand
Let us help you understand
Take your head out of the sand
And shake it free now
Let us help you to go on
We are here to lean upon
Now you know exactly just who
You want to be now
Come on
Sit down funny face
Let your laughter fill the room
Light up your golden smile
Take away all your misery and gloom
Let your laughter fill the room
Let your laughter fill the room
Let us lift you up on high
See the twinkle in your eye
Raise your head up to the sky
And say its easy
Hey let the trumpets ring it
Let the angels sing it
Let your pretty feet go dancing
Let your worn out mind go prancing
And
Sit down funny face
Let your laughter fill the room
Light up your golden smile
Take away all your misery and gloom
Let your laughter fill the room
Let your laughter fill the room
Etc.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring
Alcyone stared starry-eyed
From heavens clustered quietude;
Below, the dark, deserted night
Anticipates impending dawn.
Melodic notes begin to break
The early morning silence; Spring
Is welcomed warmly from the trees;
Forthcoming light compels the songs
Of robins welcoming carols
And the fiery star begins
To rise above the mountain peaks.
A brightly measured golden glow
Ignites the atmosphere of morn
And winters grip becomes the past.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Golden Streets Of Glory
Glory to his name, oh, holy, holy
Theres a city where the streets are paved in gold
A land where the milk and the honey flow
And a mansion which for me
cause my Bible tells the story
I just hope my feet are clean enough
To walk upon the golden streets of glory
Green meadows where the little children play
No sorrow there, just one long happy day
And none will litter there except the pure and the holy
I just hope my feet are clean enough
To walk upon the golden streets of glory
And when Ive reached my journeys end
And if Im worthy to go in
Golden streets of glory, I walk on
And the golden streets of my new home
Will lead me up to the masters throne
With the angel band Ill sing
Glory to his name, oh, holy, holy
I just hope my feet are clean enough
To walk upon the golden streets of glory
Hallelujah, I just hope my feet are clean enough
To walk upon the golden streets of glory
And when Ive reached my journeys end
And if Im worthy to go in
Golden streets of glory, Ill walk on
And the golden streets of my new home
Will lead me up to the masters throne
With the angel band Ill sing
Glory to his name, oh, holy, holy
I just hope my feet are clean enough
To walk upon the golden streets of glory
Hallelujah, I just hope my feet are clean enough
To walk upon the golden streets of glory
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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